Kiss me like you wanna be loved
by flipmeforward
Summary: Fluffy pointless fluff.


Kurt likes kissing. He really, really likes kissing, but he didn't realize just how much, until he didn't have anyone to kiss. And sure, he'd done it before, the whole long-distance thing, but it didn't really work out, did it? And the conditions were different.

He lived with Adam a year, was able to kiss him almost whenever and wherever he wanted, before Adam went back to England for the summer. That was three months of long-distance, _really_ _long_ long-distance, with a lot of Skype and texting, and pretty much no kissing at all.

So yes, Kurt likes kissing, and he likes kissing _Adam_, which is why he does it as much as he can now when they're finally together again. Kurt knows that exactly none of his friends thought they were going to make it, and to be fair, he also doubted from time to time. They _did_ work out, though, and Kurt can help the smile that breaks out on his face every time he glances over to where Adam is sitting across the room, deep in conversation with Quinn. Adam catches his eyes from time to time, and always smiles back.

However, later that night, when they're sitting on the floor and things have ventured into a game of truth and dare, Santana is apparently sick of Kurt's heart eyes and their kisses. When Kurt chooses dare, feeling pleasantly buzzed by the alcohol and Adam's proximity, her smile is too sweet.

"I dare you not to kiss each other for the rest of the night," she says. It takes a while before Kurt's brain catches up, but when it does, he stares at her, and he feels Adam tense beside him.

"You can't dare both of us when it's just my turn," Kurt protests when he finally catches up. Santana rolls her eyes.

"Fine, fine, I dare _you_ not to kiss him. Not even kiss him back if he kisses you. Happy?"

"And what if I do?"

"One shot for every kiss. I'll be keeping watch."

Kurt narrows his eyes at her. "My boyfriend is finally home after three months abroad and I'm not allowed to kiss him?" He grabs his shot glass and downs the contents before he stands up and grabs Adam's hand, dragging him up, too. "Not happening."

&#&#&

"I don't think you could do it," Adam says over breakfast next morning.

"Do what?" Kurt asks distractedly from where he's sitting across the table, scrolling through his feed of fashion blogs.

"Not kiss me."

Kurt looks up at that, stares at his boyfriend. "Do you want me to _stop_ kissing you?" he asks, even though he's pretty sure that's not what Adam means.

"No!" Adam says quickly, almost looking horrified at the prospect. "But I still don't think you could stop yourself even if you wanted to. And I'm not complaining! I'm _so_ not complaining because I _love_ kissing you, and I'm kind of flattered that you can't keep yourself off of me," he says, flashing Kurt a cheeky grin.

"Glad I can be of service," Kurt says, dryly. "Do you have a point, or are you done mocking my endless love for you?"

Adam strokes his toes against Kurt's shin under the table. "Come on, you know that's not what I meant," he says, trying to get Kurt to look at him again.

"Mhm, sure," Kurt says, not looking up. He's not mad, and they both know it, this is just teasing back and forth, but the conversation still sparks something in Kurt, an unreasonable need to prove himself. To Adam, to Santana, _to himself_.

&#&#&

The opportunity presents itself about a week later. Kurt wakes up before Adam, and he's ready, he wouldn't have been able to do this without some kind of mental preparation, but he's ready.

Adam is not, which makes the whole thing even more fun. Kurt leans over him and makes sure his lips are brushing against Adam's ear when he whispers "Good morning", but he's sure to back away before Adam can turn around and pull him down. "Pancakes?" Kurt asks and smiles down at him. Adam just grunts and pulls the covers over his head. Kurt takes it as a yes.

He's made half a batch of pancakes when Adam stumbles into the kitchen, hair a complete mess and his t-shirt on backwards. He immediately plasters himself against Kurt's back, his hands sliding around his waist and leaning his chin against Kurt's shoulder. He tries to press a kiss to Kurt's neck, but Kurt twists away, spatula in hand, leaving his boyfriend staring at him, dumbfounded.

"I'm cooking," Kurt says as a way of defending himself. Adam narrows his eyes suspiciously, but doesn't say anything, mostly because he knows he's too tired to be able to hold any kind of argument right now.

"Can I have bananas in mine?" he asks instead, pouting a little to really push.

Kurt nods. "Sure." He leans around Adam to grab a banana and he very pointedly does not kiss him while he's at it.

"Are you mad at me?" Adam asks fifteen minutes later, when it's glaringly obvious that Kurt is avoiding him. Well, not avoiding him, but avoiding kissing him.

"No," Kurt says, honestly, but he can't help but smirk a little. "Why would I be?"

"You're not kissing me," Adam says, still frowning a little.

"Last week you complained about me kissing you _too much,_" Kurt says, taking a bite of his pancake.

"I wasn't complaining!" Adam protests, his fork clattering onto the table. "I really was_not _complaining about your lips against mine, or, like, any part of me, really, I swear," he says, reaching over to grab Kurt's hand.

Kurt gives him a gentle smile and squeezes his hand before taking his own hand back to continue eating. "I know," he says. "Think of it as an acting challenge," he continues, his smile turning into a smirk.

"An acting challenge?" Adam echoes. Kurt takes another bite of his food.

"Yeah."

&#&#&

"How long are you planning on torturing me?" Adam asks hours later when they're sprawled out on the couch. Kurt looks over at him with an arched eyebrow.

"Torturing you?"

"Yeah, I miss you."

"I'm right here," Kurt points out, glancing down at himself.

"You know what I mean," Adam mutters, glaring at him. "I've already admitted I was wrong, five times, I don't know why you can't just—"

"—Give up?" Kurt finishes for him.

"_Not_ what I was going to say."

"Mhm, sure."

"Come here," Adam says, laying back and making grabby hands for Kurt.

"I'm not kissing you," Kurt warns, even as he's shuffling across the couch.

"I know," Adam says, grabbing his arms and dragging him down on top of him. "Doesn't mean I can't cuddle you."

Kurt rearranges his limbs into a more comfortable position, his body flush against Adam's, his face buried in Adam's neck. "True," he agrees, sighing contentedly against the warm skin. This is maybe his favorite place in the world. It's warm and soft and it smells like Adam, _tastes_ like Adam. He feels safe here, in the arms of the man he loves, his hand going in broad strokes over Kurt's back.

"I love you," Adam murmurs into his hair, and Kurt can tell he's falling asleep; can tell by the drowsiness in his voice, the steady, slowing pace of his hands on Kurt's back, the way his breathing gets more steady. Kurt burrows his face further into Adam's neck and before he can stop himself he presses a soft kiss against the warm skin.

"I knew you couldn't," Adam mumbles, and Kurt can feel the smile against his temple. Before he can come up with an answer, they're both drifting off to sleep.


End file.
